


the lights stay

by inkstain



Category: Black Widow (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-23
Updated: 2013-12-23
Packaged: 2018-01-05 17:48:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1096761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkstain/pseuds/inkstain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"And there's only space for one Black Widow, is that right?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	the lights stay

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BlossomsintheMist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlossomsintheMist/gifts).



> I actually never intended to write anything at all, but I felt that I should at least try, so this is my first fanfic. It's a bit experimental. Believe me when I say that I'm absolutely terrified.

  
After hours upon hours of training and the shedding of literal blood, sweat, and tears, she finally graduated from the Red Room. Few entered the program, and even fewer completed it. Yelena Belova was the first who graduated in a very long time, and given her persistent dedication, it surprised no one. What was surprising, though, was that she was able to match or beat the marks of the legendary Natalia Romanova, the first Black Widow.

A sheet of Romanova’s scores was taped to Yelena’s bedroom wall despite the fact that she memorised all the numbers. She read Romanova’s files so much that she memorised them as well. If she was to surpass her predecessor, she had to know everything about her.

So when Yelena received her first official assignment as the Black Widow, she felt prepared.

“There are none amongst you except one,” said the general as he slid a folder across his desk. “Claim the name, Belova.”

*

In New York, after checking that there was no sign of life inside, Yelena picked the lock to the traitor Black Widow’s apartment and hid between the couch and the wall, waiting for her target to arrive. The place seemed rather impersonal, with only simple furnishings and generic decorations. She knew Romanova never stayed in one place for too long. She felt that she knew Romanova inside out, despite never having met her.

Finally, she heard the sound of a lock opening, and every muscle in her body tensed up. Her heart began to race, and she held her breath. She’s supposed to stay calm, to keep her composure during missions, but she was in the same room as _Natalia Alianovna Romanova_ , the same person she admired and obsessed over for years. She couldn’t help it— to Yelena, Romanova was supposed to be a set of numbers, a series of stories, a legend. But here she is, living and breathing. And Yelena was going to be the one to kill her, the woman she was so fixated on. Soon people were going to tell stories about Yelena Belova, the woman who killed the legend.

Romanova’s footsteps sounded towards her bedroom, and Yelena followed quietly after a moment. The other woman had changed into pyjamas and was in the process of folding her clothes until she slowly put them back down and looked over her shoulder, spotting Yelena standing at the doorframe.  When she speaks she uses Russian; the red hourglass was a dead giveaway.

“Correct,” Yelena confirmed as she thrust her arm towards Romanova, shooting the Widow’s Bites from her wrist. But Romanova ducked and the blast burnt a hole into the wall behind her instead.

She’s read all the files and heard all the stories, but this is the first time Yelena sees the original Black Widow in action.

Romanova moves fluidly, elegantly, as if she is dancing around the furniture. Yelena is harsh and choppy and takes no such care with her surroundings, focused only on her target, who seemed to have no interest in subduing her attacker. She’s only dodging Yelena’s attacks, not bothering to retaliate.

Yelena is determined to complete her mission as fast as possible, to be swift and efficient about her business, but her excitement, tinged with anxiety, caused her to slip up. And that caused her anger – not at Romanova, but at herself. _You should be better than this, at least better than her!_

“You want to be the Black Widow?” Romanova called over the sound of a glass vase falling to pieces; she was too fast to receive Yelena’s punch. “A disposable player in their twisted game, with a life you can barely call your own?”

Yelena’s eyes widened as Romanova finally made her move, her hands grabbing Yelena’s wrists as she slammed her body against the wall, causing a mirror to fall and shatter into a million pieces. One move by the first Black Widow and Yelena was stunned.

Up close, Romanova was beautiful. She was always beautiful in the dated photos Yelena kept of her, yet it hardly looked like she aged a day. She was always beautiful in the files, in her reports and scores, but they are cold and Romanova is warm, her body pressed hard against Yelena, restraining her.

 _This is it._ Yelena’s heart beat wildly; her breathing was uneven and audible. She was going to die. The woman was unarmed, but it didn’t matter, the notorious Black Widow had her at her mercy…but Romanova made no move to end her life. There was something, pity maybe, in her eyes. Her condescending attitude angered Yelena, but she was also immobilised in her fear.

It must have shown on her face, since Romanova sighed before speaking again. “They’re playing with you. You must understand that the Red Room isn’t good for you, Yelena,” the traitor said, softer than anything she’s ever said to Yelena, “and I think you know that.”

The Black Widow lets her go physically unscathed that day.

*

She may have not completed her assignment on the first attempt, but it would be not the last time they meet. Romanova told Yelena to leave before the police came; her neighbours were sensible people and must have called them already.

“Visit me again sometime,” she said, sounding not at all concerned that the new-and-improved Black Widow was sent to take her life. Sirens rang out in the distance, and Romanova opened her bedroom widow so Yelena could leave quickly.

“I’ll be waiting for you, little spider.”

*

Yelena never forgot that encounter with the Black Widow. In fact, as she flew home, she could not stop thinking about her, what Romanova said before she released her.  

 _“Are you happy?”_ She asked, and that one odd little question would not leave Yelena’s head.

For the first time in her life she contemplated why she ever went to the Red Room, why she became the Black Widow. Her parents were proud of their daughter, but Yelena knew that she could be putting them in danger too, if her enemies ever found out who they were. Could she afford to have so many personal connections? What if she got killed and everyone was counting on her to finish the mission? What if—

No, Yelena decided, the traitor was wrong.

Through the Red Room, the Black Widow had a duty for her country, for her people. She would do anything for them. She would protect them. She _wanted_ this. Wanted to serve her country, make her parents proud. Romanova left her country for another. The Black Widow is Russia’s hero, and Romanova fled. The Black Widow’s loyalty belongs to Russia. It doesn’t matter if Romanova kept her name; Yelena was the _true_ Black Widow now.

Maybe that’s happiness.

Maybe it’s not, but she doesn’t want to stop.

**Author's Note:**

> The idea of me writing fanfiction scares me; I'm much more used to telling stories with images, with lines and colours and camera angles-- I'm currently working on a short animated film. But I looked at the prompt and thought: _I can't just draw one thing_. I wanted to try writing, at the very least. I had a script written out for an entire 5-page comic, which I _tried_ to adapt into text. I wrote most of this in longhand and the illustrations were mostly drawn on rice paper with a sort-of-broken dip pen nib. It can be assumed that all dialogue is in Russian.
> 
> Maybe it’s really romantic, but sometimes I think that Yelena would have admired Natasha a lot when she was starting out with her training, to the point where it’s like a sort of idol worship, even if she was so determined to beat her marks. By reading and hearing about her all the time, she sort of falls in love with her, or at least the image of her. I don't know, I think I can relate to Yelena a lot in some aspects, haha. So I guess this is my take on her first encounter with Natasha. I tried. I really hope you at least like it a little. /cries
> 
> Honestly, I’m interested in working on something like this again, set at time where they've already met, maybe with a writer if anyone would like to collaborate with me (heh). One day, perhaps.
> 
> Also, the title is taken from "Miss Y" from Marina and the Diamonds.


End file.
